


Infinitely Green

by adjuvantQasida



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, F/M, Femdom, Mentions of Sounding, Orgasm Control, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-25 23:45:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3829354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adjuvantQasida/pseuds/adjuvantQasida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Act III. A nameless female Sith Warrior pegs Malavai Quinn. He has Some Feelings. Also, submission. That's all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Infinitely Green

**Author's Note:**

> **Note that this fic includes BDSM, explicit sex, and D/s.** Also, if you don't know what pegging is: Quinn gets fucked in the ass.
> 
> [The strap-on in question here is the Feeldoe,](https://www.feeldoe.com/feeldoe_toys.html) which is strapless, meant to be worn by someone with a vagina, and comes highly recommended by a great deal of queer porn. One day I will even be able to shell out for one. 
> 
> This fic probably takes place shortly after fighting Revan in the most recent expansion. The title is from Pablo Neruda's "Dead Gallop," from Residence on Earth, translated by Donald D. Walsh. Because I will never miss out on an opportunity to throw Neruda in anything, no matter how unrelated.
> 
> One day maybe I'll write them negotiating their kink. But I meant this to be consensual, enthusiastic, and worked-out-ahead-of-time. Just a little difficult for Quinn.

Quinn is on the bed, knees spread, rear up and cheek against the cloth, eyes brushing over his lord as she disrobes behind him. He is dizzy with anticipation, she is practiced and quick. The strap-on (bright red, he notes) is in a drawer. She does not let him touch her. Instead her fingers flicker over herself, spreading her folds, painting wetness over the bulb of the phallus. She slides it into herself and turns to him with decisiveness.

The lube is cold. Both of them have a desperate attention to detail, and he takes from this that she is more concerned with what she gets out of it. But she works her fingers into him carefully and stretches him to fit her. He doesn’t know what to make of the feeling. He thinks he is progressing rapidly towards loss of control, which he hates for himself but feels he owes her. She seems satisfied with him and the thought makes his cock twitch.

She cups him with her body, hips beginning an inexorable movement, and he pants with every millimeter. Her teeth nip at the curve of his neck. Then she bites. Quinn cries out. He is blind to the Force, can only see its power where she expresses it in her body, but she is inside him and he feels that body there. She is made of power and of passion, in the way of the Sith. He thinks she must be able to feel what he is thinking and she laughs richly into his neck.

His lord presses him into the covers and pulls herself back to change her angle. She is panting now, where he is almost whimpering. When she brushes against his prostate Quinn shouts something he doesn’t hear. Her hands are clenched around his thighs, holding him open, and he struggles with the idea unwillingly. He wants to be obedient and does not know if he can be. But she keeps moving inside him. The stretch and her presence are the only constants when he scrabbles desperately at the sheets. His cock is hard against his stomach, and it tortures him when it moves with every thrust. She growls against his throat, breathless with impatience. 

It takes him long minutes, but Quinn submits, the way both of them need him to. When he relaxes against her and moves back into her, shuddering, his lord smiles against his back.

Now she fucks him harder, with longer strokes, and she rakes her nails down his spine to make him move briefly. With one hand his lord reaches around to cup his prick. Her touch is firm and Quinn finds himself closer to the edge than he would like, struggling not to finish before she wants him to. She reads that in him, as well, and her fingers drag torturously down to tighten around his base.

“When I say, Captain,” says the Empire’s Wrath. He isn’t given to exaggeration, but he thinks he’d do anything for her orders.

Submission endures in him, thrust after thrust, each time she pulls a louder shout from him. Someone will hear, he thinks wildly, perhaps Pierce, and he’s not sure he cares. Her other hand touches the tip of his cock as she buries herself in him again and he chokes back a scream. She is murmuring debased things in his ear, about slipping a fine steel sound into him, about forcing him to lick her until he cannot speak. It goes on. She has him there, and makes him believe in every bit of himself that this is all there is.

Eventually she fists his cock in her hand, seating herself in him and rolling her hips to make him jerk. Her own movement stutters after a minute and she buries her teeth in his shoulder. When she lets his prick go he has to hang on, thinking only of the pain of the bite.

“I approve, Captain. Come,” she orders him, and he does.

He is so grateful. Quinn is so, so grateful. And she pulls him down beside her, cupping him with her arms this time, nipping and kissing as their breathing returns to normal. They are moving in space and growing to new heights. They are past forgiveness. Now there is breath, and thought, and life, where he will always be just behind her.


End file.
